So how did I lose my keys?

When I moved in to this God forsaken apartment I got 2 set of keys for it. The first set I lost when i was at the local pub and some older woman that was hitting on me throughout the night stole my jacket, I didn't want anything to do with the hag. Never seen her since.

The second time I lost my keys is more interesting though.
I was at the local pub like so many times before, I want to remember that they had some sort of event there also since it was packed with people. Just before closing time I was unacceptably drunk, picked up my jacket from the wardrobe and dang! No keys.. where's my bloody keys? Nasty thoughts went through my head like a dog on a bicycle. How will I be able to afford to go to Sweden Rock Festival if I had to pay my landlord to change all the locks? Crap I thought, and then it hit me (things you can only come up with when you are under the influence).

I ran out of the pub and to the back, started headbutting the brick-wall and punching myself in the face, there was no holding back now. I phoned the police up saying I've been jumped by 3 guys near the atm machine knowing my insurance will cover it that way.

The patrol car rolls up and they put me in the back for a statement. I come up with a bulletproof story, My phone, keys and camera was stolen I said. They ask me if I have a place to stay for the night since I can't get into my own flat. My dear friend "The Fat One" is waiting for me outside and I tell them I can stay at his place throughout the night. I put my phonealarm on 10am so I can get up early and phone my landlord up so he can sort it out. I wake up and make the call, he tells me he'll get back to me at 7pm. I tell him he better phone me up faster or I'll go medievil on him.

I head up to town and start looking around both outside and inside to see if I can find them, no luck at all. My landlord phones me up saying the locksmith will be there 2pm tomorrow. I start shouting at him and tell him I will kick the bloody door in if he doesn't come and sort it out, he clicks me. So I head home, climb through the cellar window and up the stairway. I get into position of kicking my door into oblivion but being the genious I am I first check if it's open. Who knows? I might've given my keys to a girl and told her to wait for me, I've done it a few times before so why not.

The door is open. THE DOOR IS OPEN! I check inside, screaming hello, HELLO? no answer. Check around and there they are, on the middle of the livingroom table. Problems problems..... My landlord doesn't answer when I phone him up anymore... 11pm and I get a ahold of his wife so she tells him to call off the locksmith.

Needless to say, the day after I ended up in the paper as "Brutally assaulted and robbed near the atm"

Hold on to your keys.

/Hoff